


Coping Mechanisms

by NeverHadThePlot



Series: Pick me up and piece me together [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bullying, Deaf Clint Barton, Dom Phil Coulson, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Sub Clint Barton, Sub Drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverHadThePlot/pseuds/NeverHadThePlot
Summary: Phil's away and Clint can feel himself dropping. This is how he copes. It doesn't go so well.





	Coping Mechanisms

Clint took a deep breath and aimed his bow, he released his arrow as he breathed out and allowed himself a brief smile as it hit the centre of the target before losing himself in the repetition of notch, draw, release. He was edging a drop but Phil wasn’t here. He was still in Malibu. So he’d come to the range to try and sort it out himself, the way he used to.   
The mind space he slipped into whilst shooting was similar to subspace- blocking out the rest of the world. If he could just keep himself together for a few days, just until Phil got home, he’d be okay.

He’d been shooting for about half an hour when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, knocking the arrow he’d been about to release into the wall instead of the target. He reacted instinctively turning away from the hand and falling into combat stance.

“At ease Barton.” Anderson drawled, a smirk on his face.

Clint took a breath and relaxed at parade rest. “Can I help you with something, Sir?” Clint asked politely.

“Yes, you can stop hogging this lane. Go do something useful, I need it.”

“But Sir,” Clint protested, “I’ve only been here half an hour- I’m allocated three. And this is a specialised archery range. Why do you-”

“Are you questioning my orders Barton?” His eyes shone with steel.

“No Sir. I just-” 

“Beat it Barton, or I’ll write you up for insubordination.” Clint glanced around the range, several agents were now staring at them. Clint fought the urge to throw a punch and took a deep breath. He had promised Phil he wouldn’t fight at work. He had promised.

“Yes Sir.” He said, tightly controlling his breathing as he made his way to the end of his lane to retrieve his arrows, carefully slotting them into his quiver, he then unstrung his bow carefully and walked over to the range master.

“You okay Clint? You look kind of pale.” He asked as Clint handed him his weapons.

“I’m fine.” Clint bit out and forced himself to leave the place he was relying on for his own mental stability. 

He made his way to the gym instead, quickly changing into his sweats he jumped onto the nearest running machine. He turned it up high and lost himself in the rhythm of his feet beating against the treadmill. Again he’d been beating his path for half an hour before the machine suddenly ground to a halt.

He stumbled off of it and looked around to see what had happened. It was Lawrence, “Hey Barton.”

“What do you want?” He ground out, losing all sense of respect in the face of a superior he knew already hated him.

“Tut tut Barton. That’s ‘what do you want sir’. Seriously how does Coulson deal with you? I bet he spends half his life punishing you for disobedience.”

“So what if he does? It’s none of your business.” Clint bit out.

“Or did he get rid of you? I see you’re no longer wearing his collar.” He tilted his head to the side, considering.

“Fuck you sir. He’s on a mission. My collar is in his draw waiting for him to get back.”

“Language Barton.”

“What do you want Sir?” Clint asked again, digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to control his anger.

“To use this treadmill.”

“But sir- there’s plenty of other-” He objected.

“Leave before I kick your ass Barton.” Clint glared at him, but he merely raised an eyebrow, waiting. 

Clint felt the drop drawing closer, his hands began to shake so he shoved them in his pockets. “Fine.” He stalked out of the room frantically trying to work out what to do now.

He couldn’t go to Doctor Evans, she couldn’t help. He couldn’t call Phil, he was busy. Tasha was under cover. He controlled his breathing tightly as he headed towards the staff lounge, baking he thought, baking was the last resort he could think of. But when he burst into the kitchen area he froze. Agent Jenkins was in there. They stared at each other for a long second and Jenkins let out a feral grin.

No. No. Jenkins is not supposed to be here. Phil sent him to Alaska. Phil promised he wouldn’t have to see him again. Clint’s heart beat spiked and he backed out of the lounge. He turned on his heel and hitched himself into the air vents. He needed Phil. He had to find Phil. Phil wasn’t here.

Clint’s hands and feet automatically carried him to his old nest above Phil’s office. The one he’d used to hide in when he was in drop just so he could feel a nice dom’s presence, before he’d told Phil how he really felt.

He climbed down into Phil’s locked office and fell to his knees, just breathing in the familiar smell of Phil, staring longingly at the draw which had his collar locked inside of it. After a few long minutes he rose to his feet and fumbled with his hearing aids, switching them off. Then he grabbed the old blanket from the back of the couch that Phil wrapped him in when he was upset or ill, then climbed back into his nest and snuggled down.

He could stay here for a few days. Just until Phil got home. Food could wait. Phil would understand. 

Phil would understand.

With that thought he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

He was woken an immeasurable amount of time later by his cell phone vibrating. His hands shook violently as he switched his aids on and held it to his ear.

“Clint?” Phil’s voice was warmth and safety and home. Clint whimpered, “Clint are you okay?”

“Sir.” Clint managed to say, tugging himself out of the sub drop enough to speak the one word.

“Clint.” Phil said again, voice suddenly concerned. “Are you in drop?” Clint couldn’t respond, he let out a sob. “Oh my poor boy.” He heard Phil take a breath and then his voice turned strong and commanding, “Clint, I know it’s hard for you to speak right now, but I need you to tell me where you are so I can find you, okay?”

Clint sniffled. And tried to think. Phil had given him an order. He knew he knew how to speak. He opened his mouth and snapped it shut. He opened it again but all that came out what a whine. “Clint, I know you can do this baby. Just a few little words.”

Clint paused a moment longer, then breathed out, “Vent. Office.”

Phil sighed in relief, “Thank you Little Bird, I know that was difficult for you. You’re such a Good Boy, pushing yourself for me. I’m coming okay. I’m coming. I’m getting on a plane right now I will be with you as soon as I possibly can. I’m going to call Doctor Evans okay, I want you to be a really Good Boy for me and do everything she says until I get back. Can you do that for me baby?”

Clint worked hard to form his words again, “Yes. Sir.”

“Good Boy Little Bird, you’re such a Good Boy for me. I’ll be home really soon okay. I’m going to hang up now but I’ll see you in a couple of hours okay.” Clint whimpered, “I know baby. It’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Phil hung up and blew out a breath, wondering what the hell had happened this time, and why the hell no one contacted him to let him know. Although if Clint was in the air vents he supposed no one had noticed. He shook his head and dialled Nick.

“Fury.”

“Hey Nick.”

“Phil? What’s going on? I thought you were on your way back, has something else happened?” Nick’s mind was racing, he was still pissed off about the whole ‘I am Iron Man’ thing.

“I am on the way back Nick. I just called Clint to tell him that fact and discovered he’s in sub drop.” 

“What?” Fury demanded. He hadn’t seen Barton since his last mission debrief, but he had seemed fine then. His medical even came back without him having a single scratch for once.

“He’s in the air vents, I think somewhere above my office judging by the three words he remembered how to say-”

“What do you mean ‘remembered how to say’?”

“Clint can’t speak in subspace, or drop, unless its sign.”

“Shit Phil.”

“Yeah. Could you please send Doctor Evans to find him. I don’t know how long he’s been up there, but I doubt he’s been taking care of himself.”

“Of course, Phil.”

“Thank you.” Phil breathed out in relief. 

…

The minute Phil walked through the doors to medical he found himself with an armful of archer. He stumbled backwards before righting himself and hugging him back tightly. “Hey there Little Bird.” Clint whimpered and tried to push himself closer. “I’m so sorry baby boy.” He rubbed his back in soothing strokes, “Come on, come sit on the bed with me.” He man handled Clint back to the bed where the old blanket from his office lay.

“He refused to let go of it.” Evans said as she came into the room, answering his unasked question, “I think it must smell of you.”

Phil just nodded and wrapped it around Clint’s shoulders before pulling him into his lap and rocking him gently, tucking his head beneath his chin. “What happened?” He asked her.

“I don’t know.” She responded honestly. “I did his medical after the mission, there wasn’t even a scratch on him, he was his usual cocky self. I found him in the vent above your office, like you said, but by my guess he’d been up there for the better part of the last two days. I gave him an IV and convinced him to eat a couple of sandwiches, there won’t be any lasting damage.”

Phil nodded and planted a kiss in Clint’s hairline. “So something happened between seeing you yesterday morning and sometime that afternoon.” 

She nodded, “He’s cleared to leave with you, as long as you stay with him obviously. You can stay here as long as you need to. But I think it’s a relatively mild drop.”

“Okay, thanks doc.” Phil gave her a grateful smile as she turned to leave.

“I’m going to take you home Little Bird, it that okay with you?” Clint nodded his head against Phil’s chest. “Okay Baby Boy, let’s go.” He moved to stand up but Clint clung to him, “I’m not going anywhere baby, we have to stand up if we’re going to go home.” Clint seemed to think about that for a moment before he reluctantly released his hold and stood up.

Phil took his hand in his own, the other agents could just deal with it. They got into the lift but Clint stopped him from pressing the ground floor, instead pushing the button that would lead them to Phil’s office. “Clint, sweetheart?” He frowned at his sub.

Clint bit his lip and pointed at his own throat. Phil took a moment to notice that it was bare and suddenly wanted to kick himself. Of course Clint didn’t have his collar on, he’d locked it in his office draw before they left for their separate missions. “I’m so sorry baby boy, of course we can get your collar.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of Clint and he pressed his forehead to Phil’s chest. He pulled away as the elevator stopped and Phil led him to his office. “Why don’t you kneel for me Clint.”

Clint smiled up at him as he lowered himself to his knees in the middle of the room. Phil unlocked his desk draw and took to collar out. He stroked a finger over his old dog tag before moving to stand in front of Clint. He ran a hand through his hair and Clint eyes flickered shut. He caressed his cheek for a moment before letting him go and sliding the leather back where it belongs, buckling it quickly. Then he stepped closer and gently urged Clint to rest his head against his thigh. They stayed that way for another long moment, Phil stroking the back of Clint’s neck, Clint breathing in the scent of his dom deeply.

“Thank you, Sir.” Clint breathed out, relaxing against Phil.

“You’re very welcome my love.” Phil replied, smiling down at his archer, “Are you ready to go home?” Clint nodded and slowly got to his feet. 

Phil pulled him in for a soft kiss and Clint melted against him. “C’mon then Little Bird. I’ve missed you. I want to spend some time exploring you.” He whispered in Clint’s ear. Clint shivered and whined. Phil smiled and kissed his temple then pulled away, leading him by the hand from his office.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the avengers or the characters.


End file.
